


Sweet Sixteen

by toastedgyoza



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Birthday, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Pining Luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 05:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30101061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastedgyoza/pseuds/toastedgyoza
Summary: It’s not that Julie is intentionally avoiding the topic of her upcoming birthday...A Sweet Sixteen should be a cultural right of passage, but Julie is carrying some baggage that's making it hard to face head on. Luckily, she's got the best friends in the world to help her shoulder that weight. Maybe she'll get her ownSixteen Candlesmoment after all...
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	Sweet Sixteen

It’s not that Julie is _intentionally_ avoiding the topic of her upcoming birthday. She’s just had a lot on her plate, is all. Between playing The Orpheum, wrestling the boys away from Caleb, and discovering that whatever bond they’ve forged means they can _touch_ (a fact that’s keeps her up at night, her mind spinning a myriad of different directions, some of which make her blush), it’s been a pretty busy time in the life of Julie Molina. And if it’s all a rather _convenient_ excuse to not think too much about commemorating another year around the sun, then so be it. Julie knows how to deflect with the best of them. But of course, like so many things that Julie would rather avoid, Flynn manages to pry to it to center stage, unafraid to call Julie out on her BS.

“Julie! A Sweet 16 is, like, a cultural right of passage! You can’t _not have one!”_ Flynn wails over the din of hallway conversation and shuffling feet. She swings her braids over her shoulder and crosses her arms, staring Julie down with an intensity that Julie recognizes as “All Business Flynn” a.k.a. a version of Flynn who won’t be letting this go any time soon. As Julie swaps her books out of her locker she huffs good naturedly and glances over at her friends theatrics.

“I am having one!” she retorts over the * _snap_ * of her locker slamming, harder than totally necessary. She leans against the cool metal, grateful for it’s stability, as she feels her energy sap away. She does not want to have this conversation with Flynn, but also does not want her to know that. So she shrugs, aiming for casual, while simulteanousely hugging her books to her chest, employing them as some sort of shield against this conversation. “I just thought we’d keep it casual. You know, sleepover, junk food, Netflix.”

“That doesn’t count _,_ Jules!” Flynn, exasperated, flings her arms into the air before linking one into the crook of Julie’s elbow and pulling them into the flow of hallway traffic. Flynn deftly navigates around the bodies of fellow Los Feliz High School students while dragging Julie alongside her, making her feel not unlike a ragdoll. “A sweet sixteen only comes around once a lifetime. And on a Saturday too! You can’t waste it on a boring, old, regular night.”

“Hey!” Julie retorts, trying to defend herself. Flynn, undeterred, charges on.

“It’s not a _real_ Sweet 16 without a blow out. And it’ll be perfect because you and boys can play and we can put the video up on social and ride the momentum off The Orpheum. So this isn’t just the advice of your incredibly stylish best friend but also your brilliant Social Media Manager.” Julie shoulders slouch as her mood, which had been fine until _this_ , starts to wane. She wants to be a million miles away from this conversation. A sluggishness overcomes her body as it takes all her effort to avoid tripping over her own feet and careening into an unsuspecting classmate. Flynn sees that maybe she’s pushing too hard down this road and sighs gently. She changes tactics, puts on her best “Teenage Auntie” smile, and playfully bumps her shoulder into Julie’s.

“C’mon, Julie,” she knowingly croons, “aren’t you worried that missing this important teenage milestone will dramatically impair your social development?” Julie throws her head back at the absurdity of Flynn’s teasing and cackles before shaking her head. She turns to grin at her best friend in the whole world, infinitely fond.

“You’re ridiculous,” Julie replies. Her body relaxes a smidge, but she’s still eager to shake Flynn off of this focus and steer them in a different direction. But Flynn is persistent, ready to lay down some truth.

“Julie.” Flynn begins with a seriousness absent until now. She comes to an abrupt stop, freezing Julie in her tracks and causing her sneakers to squeak against the laminate floor as she scrambles to not fall forward. The girls ignore the sound of consternation from the student behind them who’s now forced to quickly change directions. The shift in mood refocuses Julie’s attention. She knows a truth bomb is about to drop and mentally prepares herself to receive it. Flynn’s eyes soften in the face of Julie’s obvious discomfort.

“You don’t have to do _anything_ you don’t want to do.” Flynn grabs Julie’s shoulders and emphasizes her words with a gentle squeeze. Julie jumps into the silence that follows, eager to get what comes next out into the open.

“But…”

“But.” Flynn’s grip tightens with resolve. “I think a party would be good for you. Especially after last year.” Julie looks at the earnestness in Flynn’s eyes and feels a contrasting uneasiness sink to the bottom of her stomach. The discomfort of being seen. Flynn, in her eternal Flynn Wisdom, has managed to cut to the heart of the matter: The Quincenera That Wasn’t.

Julie looks down, pretending to be suddenly interested with the color of her own shoes.

“You’ve been doing so good,” Flynn continues, “getting out there with the boys and the band. And if what you really want is to pig out on carbs and just hang out we’ll do that and have a great time. But it seems, I don’t know, it seems like it’d be a tragedy to not celebrate the amazingness that is Julie Molina. I just think it’ll be good for you. Good for Julie.”

She rubs Julie’s shoulders, affectionate and mothering. Julie loves her so much but kind of hates her at this moment because she knows Flynn is right. She’d been avoiding it, hoping to silently wallow in her grief a little, and avoid any complicated feeling this birthday would bring up for her. Julie’s throat constricts, tight and bordering on painful. She swallows and the effort is audible.

“But Saturday is only a few days away…” Julie points out, her voice a muted croak.

“Girl, you know I can pull together a party in my sleep. And, let’s face it, we both know I was going to be in charge anyways. Me and my main man Ray will figure out all the details and you can rest knowing your party is in the hands of the best party planner in all of Los Feliz High.” Julie’s shoulders unclench as her anxiety wanes ever so slightly. She trusts Flynn implicitly, and this is her element. If she’s willing to do all the planning then why not let her and show up to a perfect party already in action? It can’t be that bad, right?

Julie gets as far as “Okay…” before Flynn interjects with a loud “Yayyy!!” accompanied by excited clapping and a bouncing hug.

“Just trust me, Jules!” She says as she pulls away to grab Julie’s face in her hands, “You won’t regret it. You just have to show up looking cute and ready to rock out with your non-corporeal band of cuties. Speaking of,” the gleam in Flynn’s eye turns a shade mischievous, “you want me to get you a big cake you can lean over and have your _Sixteen Candles_ moment with “He Who Wears No Sleeves?”

“Flynn!!” Julie slaps Flynn’s hands away before looking around, immediately feeling silly as the subject of this conversation is nowhere to be found. Flynn grins wide as she swings her arm around Julie’s shoulder and restarts their walk down the hallways.

“Well,” she mocks, faux serious, while patting Julie’s arm “you just let me know.”

* * *

“You didn’t tell us your birthday was coming up!” Reggie exclaims as he leans to put his bass down before bolting upright, panic etched across his face. “Oh gosh! I haven’t even begun to think about what I’m going to get you! I don’t have any time to go out and buy you anything!”

“Not to mention any money.” Alex quips from behind his drum set, “Or, you know, any actual way to physically buy something.”

“...It slipped my mind.” Julie responds as she collapses onto the couch and blows the curls out of her face. She reaches out to prevent a cushion from tumbling to the floor and places it in her lap. She senses, rather than sees, the exchanged glances between her bandmates.

“Are you not excited for your birthday, Julie?” Alex asks, voice kind but deliberately neutral. Julie sighs again.

“I am...” she says, but there’s a hesitation that is clear to even her own ears. She turns up to Alex, but quickly brings her eyes back down to her fingers. There’s a beat in the room as her bandmates generously wait for her to gather the courage to speak.

Julie focuses her attention on undoing a knot in the pillow’s fringe, letting the silence draw out. When she doesn’t elaborate, Alex and Reggie exchange another look in her periphery. In the opposite corner Luke is uncharacteristically quiet, slumped in a run down chair in the far end of the studio. She feels the familiar heat of his gaze on the side of her face. While Alex and Reggie’s response to the news of her birthday party was the standard unbridled enthusiasm she’s come to expect from the boys, it hasn’t escaped her notice that their fourth member hasn’t exactly matched that energy.

Julie doesn’t want to be presumptuous. But… she thought Luke, of all the people, would be jumping off walls ready to throw her a birthday _parade_ if she asked him. He’s her biggest cheerleader, always ready to uplift her and scream support from the sidelines whenever she needs it. She risks a peek over at him through her curtain of hair. He’s leaning back, attempting to look casual but not hiding the tension where his neck meets his shoulders. He lightly plucks the strings of his guitar mindlessly, the current manifestation of his inability to ever sit completely still. His face is morose, forehead crinkled, the corners of his eyes turned downward but upon realizing she’s looking his way he relaxes it into something more controlled.

She’s gotten pretty good at reading Luke’s moods. Like laser focused musical genius when they write together. Or exuberant puppy dog excitement when there’s a breakthrough with the band. Once in a while she catches a shy teenage boy sharing a secret smile with only her. Right now, she’s seeing the Luke she met outside his parents’ house. Mournful and resigned. Luke is upset about something and she doesn't know why. The underlying simmer when their eyes meet is distant, tinged with something somber. Her stomach clenches. She’s thrown off balance. Hours removed from Flynn’s encouragement, her anxieties creep back in. She’s trying to keep them at bay and not entirely succeeding.

She turns back at Alex and Reggie and seeing their warm, open faces, she feels the need to explain herself. The largest sigh thus far tumbles out.

“It’s…. complicated.” she hesitates and recenters herself before trucking on. “Last year I was supposed to have a quinceañera. I had been looking forward to it since forever because my mom always talked about her quince she turned 15 and how much fun it was and how mine was also going to be awesome. But then…”

Julie loses her nerve and finds the words stuck in her throat. She knows the boys have connected the dots, they can tell what she’s trying to say without her having to say it. She quickly looks down to her fingers again, tangled into the fringe of a pillow and watches them blur over with moisture starting to collect in her eyes. She feels a warm hand on her shoulder (and isn't that funny, being able to feel them). She peers up to find Alex by her side. Sweet Alex, so caring and tender. The love on his face soothes her and his steady hand grounds her until she feels confident enough to continue.

“I didn’t really feel like celebrating… after. I was too sad and it was too soon so we just had some cake with Dad and Carlos and Flynn.” Julie wipes the moisture from her eyes, “Anyways, Flynn is trying to get me to do something fun this time around. You know her, she was all like, ‘The world should celebrate Julie Molina!’ and that sounded good at the time but I’m having second thoughts.” Julie is hit with a wave of grief that passes over her, brief but potent. She’s shared so much of herself with these boys, that it’s almost silly that this feels as vulnerable as it does. But Julie has long learned to try not to predict the ways that her grief is going to manifest. She’s realizing how much of avoiding her birthday has been wrapped up in feelings about her mom and celebrating without her. So much has happened since her mom passed and there’s so much Julie wants to share with her: the band, her music, and now another year where she’s a little older. Her mom doesn’t get to see, doesn’t get to celebrate, and doesn’t get to say how proud she is, _mija,_ that she’s growing up into a full grown person. Julie is straddling the line between reigning it in and completely losing it, not sure which way she’s going to teeter, when she hears Luke aggressively come to his feet.

“Flynn’s right, though.” Luke’s voice cuts through the silence. Julie’s eyes snap to him. The sadness of moments ago wiped from his face now replaced by a more familiar excitement. He sets his guitar aside, signature bounce returning to his body. Well meaning mischief sparkles in his eyes. She’s confused by this sudden turn but doesn’t have time to register this change as his eyes bore into hers, set and determined.

“The world _should_ celebrate Julie Molina.” Julie feels heat crawl up her neck and land on her cheeks. She hopes against all odds that what she’s feeling isn’t reflected in the color of her cheeks but she sees Alex and Reggie’s identical smirks and she knows it’s futile. His grin widens and Julie can see the chaotic gears whirring inside his head, a classic tell that Luke is _plotting._

“We’re going to throw you that birthday party. You’re gonna get music and dancing and cake we’re gonna to rock so hard that at the end of the night you won’t be able to stand. Because we’re not going to let your sweet sixteen pass by without going all out! We’re celebrating Julie Molina. Isn’t that right, boys?” He walks towards them and throws his arms around Alex’s shoulders while nodding his head at Reggie. The boys quickly get on board, emphatically nodding in agreement. That’s enough to get Luke bouncing, arms starting to move loose and wide, his body emanating enough energy to fill the room.

“You in, boss?” He returns to her. He’s taken control and rallied the crew. Now he’s emboldening her to rise to the occasion but ultimately giving her the final say. Isn’t that so Luke? Pushing her to the furthest of her ability, right on the teetering edge of what she can handle, but letting her lead her own path. So much like her mom used to.

Her slow grin stretches wide to match the grin on his face. It’s quickly become familiar, the way he makes her feel like she can do anything. But it’s not becoming any less thrilling. With him and the boys, everything is possible.

“I’m in.”

* * *

The boys have really impressed, Julie is reluctant to admit (both to herself and to said boys). When their enthusiasm is focused and directed instead of wandering the chaos of their own unfettered minds, they can really put something together.

Alex and Willie’s decor (under the firm guiding hand of Flynn’s vision) has made the space feel magical. Multicolored string lights reflect off shimmering tinsel placed around the space, casting everything in soft pinks and purples. Lanterns and soft tissue flowers line the doors of the studio and hang from the surrounding trees. Sequin tablecloth and accents add playful sparkle. Her backyard feels like stepping into fairy grove and she’s enchanted.

Reggie “helped” her dad and Carlos put together quite the spread with plenty of food even for a party filled with hungry teenagers. Julie’s more than relieved. The ancestral shame of running out of food would be a fate worse than death.

And while _Julie and the Phantoms_ don’t need tech when they take the stage, Luke has overseen the sound equipment for the after party. He even tried a pass at curating a playlist for in-between sets, wrangling with Julie’s laptop and muttering under his breath the whole time. The joy of watching him struggle was only surpassed by the offended look he shot Flynn when she took one look at it and nixed it for being “literally a list of ancient white dudes.”

Julie and the boys finished their set 15 minutes ago. They kept it short and sweet but the electrical buzz from their performance still permeates the space. Party guests are loose and energized, movements more exaggerated, laughter louder, a small dance floor developing in front of Flynn’s turntables where she’s getting into her groove. Julie makes a note to remind her to not spend the whole night behind her turntables.

Julie is _so_ close to feeling good. So much closer than she thought she might be. But she still can’t shake it. The back of her head tingles as she sips from her quickly dwindling drink, vaguely aware of her guests' eyes on her. She hears, rather than feels, when her Red Solo Cup(™) buckles under the involuntary tensing of her fingers. She tries to focus on the conversation she’s having with Nick about an upcoming assignment for their Composition Class, but the weight of simultaneously being self conscious and the most observed person in the room is getting to her.

Julie glances around the party to do a quick tally of the boys. She finds Reggie winding in and out of multiple conversations, participants completely oblivious, eagerly trying and failing to gain the attention of a single member of the dance team. Alex and Willie are seated up on the ledge with faces close as they lean into each other and laugh and people watch.

And finally, Luke, awkwardly hovering by the refreshment table, looking unusually out of place. She tilts her head, surprised, as she watches his eyes dart around the party, a crease between his brows, his eyes clouded over. The moroseness from earlier is back. It’s so striking to Julie, apprehension looks so foreign on his face. It doesn't belong there.

His scan of the crowd draws his eyes to where she’s standing. Once they land on her, she watches his demeanor change. A genuine small engulfs his face and his posture relaxes. But she can still see it. Like before, she can see that under the surface, there’s something bubbling. And she’s deeply inclined to try to find out what.

“Julie? Everything okay? ” Nick asks her. She’s clearly checked out of the conversation and is now staring at nothing. Julie quickly snaps her head around back to Nick, embarrassed.

“Sorry! Everything’s fine, I’m totally fine!” He looks at her with mild concern, eyebrows coming together. Julie cringes and decides to take this opportunity to retreat.

“You know, actually, I could use a drink,” Julie squeaks as she turns on heel to quickly move towards the punch bowl before he can offer to grab it for her. She weaves through the crowd, giving a short greeting to those who stop her along the way, but never ceasing moving towards her goal.

With every step she watches him grow cockier. She’s not sure if he’s projecting or if it’s something she’s doing by her proximity. She gives him a direct look to let him know she’s come over to talk to him, before grabbing the ladle in the punch bowl. She’s grateful that there aren’t people around, drawn in by the pumping rhythm of Flynn’s set. It means that no one will notice she’s about to have a conversation with air.

He scoots closer, leaning over the bowl to try to draw her eye.

“Thirsty?” She rolls her eyes. Cup full, she comes round to lean against the wall next to him. He leans back too, one foot propped up on the wall behind him. The space between them is non-existent, close enough so she can whisper. If that means that their arms brush up against each other from time to time, well, she’s not complaining. She takes in the crowd, resting her elbow on her arm and bringing her cup up to hide her mouth.

She watches him in the corner of her eye, not sure what to say to him. He looks, for all intents and purposes, totally fine. Well, maybe a little alone. But more or less fine now that she’s standing next to him. She returns her full focus to the dance floor. Smiling faces, laughter, and dancing greet her. But here she is, on the outside watching in. Her skin starts to feel tight with anxiety, a creeping itch across her skill. She’s the wallflower at her own party. Julie tries to shake off the restlessness by shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“You okay?” Luke asks her, turning his body to face her. Resting his elbow on the wall above her head, she’s tempted to trace the perfect line of his bicep with her gaze but resists getting stuck along that path.

“Mmmhmmm.” she hums into her cup, giving a small nod.

“Oh?” he quirks his eyebrow. Julie hums quietly as she tugs at the hem of her dress. The sparkly pink thing is far from scandalous, but lives at the edge of her comfort zone. A little bit of fashion armor. She hoped that looking hot in a cute dress would imbue her with the confidence needed to take on this party. It worked for a little while. There’s a bubbling in her lower stomach when she remembers Luke’s awestruck face when she debuted the look earlier that afternoon. But in this current moment, a sparkly pink dress isn’t enough to combat her fried nerves.

“Is that why you’re standing at the edge of your own party?” Luke continues on. “Talking to air?” The slight curve of his lopsided smiles gives for just a millisecond when he makes that self deprecating joke. It raises the hair on Julie’s arms.

“You’re not air.” It comes out harsher than she intended, the need to defend him fierce (even if she’s defending him from himself). When she registers the slight shock on his face, she quickly pivots to try to lighten the mood and bumps her shoulder against his chest

“See?” she says when they make contact. “Not air.” Luke gives a little chuckle.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

They fall back into their previous silence. Julie taking in the crowd and Luke taking in her. Julie realized that his stare isn't just observational, it’s anticipatory. Julie breathes deep and sighs.

“I don’t like the attention.” she mutters into her drink. Staring at red liquid, she hears Luke let out an incredulous guffaw.

“I’m sorry, I thought I was talking to Julie Molina of _Julie and the Phantoms_. You know the powerhouse frontwoman of the most rocking band in all of LA? The one who was just here a few minutes ago, tearing the house down?” He leans back against the wall and bumps her shoulder with his. She has to steady herself to prevent anyone else from noticing her sudden shift. “Huh, weird, maybe I missed her?” Julie suspects the astronauts on the ISS can see her following eye roll from space.

Julie is absolutely willing to acknowledge the irony in having found the courage to perform for _literally_ hundreds of people but shirking under the spotlight of her own birthday party. In fact, having _just_ performed for this very group, it’s striking the chasm she feels between being Julie: Charismatic Rock Star Goddess and Julie: Average 16-Year-Old-Girl. The average side is currently winning out.

“What about you?” she deflects careful to keep quiet and look out at the party and not at him, “I could ask you the same question. Why’s the former frontman of Sunset Curve standing all by himself when there’s a whole crowd here to move with the power of rock and roll or whatever it is you say.” In the corner of her eye, she can see Luke aggressively shake his head and he even wags a finger at her. Julie grips her cup harder to stop herself from smacking that finger out of the air.

“No no no no, you’re not getting out of this. It’s not _my_ birthday.” Her curls fly with her shaking head and Julie turns to look up at him, finally looking at him straight on instead of glancing at her periphery. He’s focusing directly back at her, his body leaning over to bring his face closer than she expected. The look on his face is 100% Luke: teasing and playful but loving and open. Totally inviting and ready to receive whatever troubles Julie is ready to share with him.

She’s gotten used to their sideways looks. Like when they're performing side by side or sharing a piano bench. She’s gotten used to the fondness that overflows from him when he turns her way, sometimes soft and kind, other times awestruck and reverent. But what she hasn’t gotten used to is how it makes her feel. The stirring in the very bottom of her stomach where what she calls her “complicated feelings” live. Feelings that don’t particularly care about the practicalities of their “interesting little relationship.” Feelings that make her feel reckless. She takes this opportunity to drink in the swirling hazel of his eyes before glancing down at his mouth. His lips are gently parted, relaxed. But as the seconds tick by his mouth slowly moves into a languid, warm smile. She returns her gaze to his eyes and they’re crinkled at the corners, amused. He pushes himself off the wall with new determination.

“C’mon, boss. Let's dance.” Before she can even process what he just said, Luke grabs her hand, hooking a couple of his fingers with hers. She moves to catch up so it’s not obvious she’s being dragged unwilling into the dancing crowd.

“Wait, what? You want to _dance_??” She hastily whispers back at him. She’s thrown. She wouldn't have pegged Luke as the type to (in use his words) kill it on the dance floor, but here he is, shoulders squared and set and pulling her into the crowd.

“Mmmhmm. We’re getting you out there, birthday girl.”

“Can you even dance?” she tries to quip at him, aiming for teasing but she hears the way the question is breathy. There’s a tingling in her fingers where their hands touch and the stirring in her stomach fizzes into overdrive. How is this even going to work??? The thought of dancing with Luke spins her into nervous flittering (a certain day dream that lives on repeat in her brain comes to mind). Nervous energy tingles throughout her limbs. But she’s also anxious about having to navigate what it means to dance with an invisible boy, with cute air, in the middle of her 16th birthday.

She manages to lock eyes with Flynn across the crowd and tries with all her might to telepathically convey the full extent of the situation. _911, EMERGENCY, DO SOMETHING._ Julie doesn’t know what she _wants_ Flynn to do, but she’s desperate for Flynn to do _something, anything_. Flynn sees Julie’s distress and gives her a determined nod. “I got you,” her serious expression says as she reaches for the mic and Julie feels relief that Flynn is going to run damage control.

“Everyone, welcome back the birthday girl, JULIE MOLINA!!!”

The crowd turns en masse to look at her. Dozens and dozens of eyes directed towards her and her invisible companion. Well…this is not exactly what she had in mind. She’s teleported back to when she’d sit at Mrs. Harrison’s piano for eternity unable to sing and every muscle in her body freezes. But, Luke grips her hand reassuringly and continues to move her to the center of the dance floor. A small “no” leaves her lips as her feet plant, wanting to move back to their wallflower positions.

The crowd doesn’t let her. Because a millisecond later they let out a jubilant roar and swarm her, grabbing Julie and shuttling her and her ghostly companion to the center of the mass. Her guests enthusiastically receive her along the way. A couple of hugs, a few hands that grip her arm or shoulder, a chorus of “Happy Birthdays” and “omg, Julie, let’s dance!” and “Yay, you’re finally joining!” Julie let out an uncontrolled giggle, overcome with everyone's excitement, moving with the flow of bodies pressing up against her. Luke moves right through the crowd but Julie bumps against party guests as she makes her way, flowing with them and feeling them move in time with Flynn’s music. She’s drawn into the pulse of it. _Thump, thump, thump._ A heartbeat that pumps lifeblood into them all. Julie feels the joy of people dancing and celebrating. Celebrating her. And that giggle morphs into a full blown laugh.

Luke stops on a dime and she almost runs right into his back. He spins around to look at her, eyes twinkling, grin matching hers. The crowd presses in on them when they’re thrust together, Julie bringing her hands up as she crashes into him. She’s squeezed into his chest and Luke brings his hands up to steady her. In the back of her mind, she’s grateful that the crowd is tight enough and occupied enough that no one seems to notice she’s propped up on air. In the front of her mind, she’s completely preoccupied with the nearness of their faces again and the way his fingers feel warm and rough on the soft skin of her arms. His eyes look down at her again, the green whirlpools blown wide, betraying his surprise at holding her in his arms. His mouth parts but nothing comes out and they stay together for several beats.

It’s easy to get swept away by the brash, overconfident front he puts on. But Julie prefers him like this, nervous and unsure. When he’s thunderstruck. Because she’s the one that makes him feel this way. She sees the way she feels about him, mirrored on his own face.

“You ready to dance?” Luke sighs and even though it’s barely above a whisper, she can hear him perfectly. She can hear the way his voice wavers.

She’s about to nod as her hands inch up up his chest when a familiar ***POOF*** to her right breaks her concentration. She whips around to see Reggie, already jumping up and down to the music, arms akimbo as he dances.

“Happy Birthday, Julie!!! Are we dancing?!?!” He yells excitedly. Before she can even respond—

***POOF***

***POOF***

Alex and Wille appear to her right with their arms around each other’s shoulders. They take in Reggie’s thrashing and with laughter and snorts. She pointedly ignores their raised eyebrows as they turn to see her still pressed into Luke, his hands still holding her steady. She’s hastily pushing him away when a familiar small hand grabs hers and spins her around.

“Let’s get grooving, birthday girl!!” Flynn yells over the noise, bringing their hands above their head in triumph. Julie shakes her head but a smile overtakes her face.

“Alright, alright!!” she pretends to be put out but her hips start to sway and her feet start to stomp in time with the heartbeat of the music. _Thump, thump, thump._ She bounces on her toes and back down again. _Thump, thump, thump._ Her head bobs and her arms sway. _Thump, thump, thump._ The six of them, encased in the larger crowd, push and pull each other up and down and side to side. Like particles in the sea, moving in and out with the tide. Swept up, but a part of something greater than herself. Julie can’t stop laughing, can’t control the way her body bounces with joy or the way her grin aches at the corner of her mouth. Flynn’s hand in hers, her new family engulfing her. Is this is what it means to be 16 surrounded by the loves of her life, and buoyed by everyone around her?

Time slows down. Or maybe her brain slows down in order to take in every second of this moment. Every second of love and perfect happiness. When she lets out another uncontrolled laugh, she swears she hears her mom’s instead, their laughs intertwined as though she were dancing right alongside her.

* * *

It’s late, midnight has come and gone. Julie’s body feels run down. Her brain is wired and moving a million miles an hour. The last of her party guests have stumbled away, cramming into their carpools and ride shares, and now it’s almost eerily quiet in the open space outside the studio.

While they’ve made a cursory attempt at cleaning, there are still tables and leftover trash scattered around the space, which her dad emphatically waved off with a “we’ll just deal with it tomorrow” before retiring to bed.

The lights are still lit. In the empty silence of the space, the pinks and purples glow ethereal. That combined with the lateness of the hour, her backyard feels out of space time, the air tense with something that feels like possibility.

Julie can _just_ hear her bare feet pad against the concrete, her wedges dangling from the tips of the fingers of one hand. She spares a quick glance over her shoulder as she slowly pries open the studio doors and peeks her head in.

She expects to find the boys lounging about, decompressing from the hustle and bustle a busy night. Instead, she finds a single, solitary Luke, plucking a melody on his guitar as he stares up at chairs on the ceiling.

The melancholy is back again. The twinkling fairy lights so artistically hung around the loft cast a warm glow of his face, making him look even more inviting than normal. Save for his sadness that makes Julie’s stomach ache. Luke quickly brings his eyes down from the ceiling to the studio doors and notices her.

“Julie!” he quickly puts his guitar down and stands up, hands back into his pockets. He schools his face into something neutral, but Julie can see the effort it takes him.

“Where’s Alex and Reggie?” she asks as she steps inside and quietly closes the door behind her. She hovers, stepping on eggshells, not really sure what Luke wants or needs right now.

“Alex went to ‘walk Willie home’ and Reggie went to ‘supervise cleanup.’ Whatever that means.” Julie takes a take forward, her free hand grabbing her other wrist behind her back.

“So you’re here all alone?” Julie tries for teasing but hits closer to worry than she wanted to.

“Not anymore. Now that you’re here.” Luke says. Luke's body language mimics the stillness she feels in the air. No bouncing Luke, no endless energy. Just him, hands back in pockets, motionless and waiting for her.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks her. She smiles and moves a few feet closer, an easy sway in her step.

“I did.” She gives a small nod, her smile shy. “You and Flynn were right, I needed this. I needed dancing and music and, I don’t know, just being with everyone here tonight.” She looks around the studio, determined to bridge the gap between them. “Last year was so hard. I couldn’t even think about what it would be like to keep living without her. All the birthdays she would miss. All the things I would do without her by my side. It felt impossible to celebrate without her.” Sympathy covers Luke’s face, the kind born of true understanding. He knows what it’s like to continue on without someone you’ve left behind. “But, that’s not what she would have wanted. And tonight I realized that she’s still here with me anyways. She’s all around. And I needed your help to push me so I could remember that. So thank you, Luke.” Luke stares at her, rapt. She returns his direct look.

“What about you?” she takes a step further in, her posture still cautious. Half of the studio still separates them, but she’s slowly chipping that distance away. Luke stays rooted to his spot. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, of course Jules,” he replies, almost incredulous “One of my favorite things to do.”

“What is?”

“Celebrating you.” His eyes bore into hers. His honesty takes Julie’s breath away. Now that the adrenaline rush of the party is gone, the rawness of what’s happening under the skin can come to the surface. And Julie feels that happening now. Something between them is coming to the surface.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been acting… distant.” It’s as though she’s poked a hole in a Luke shaped balloon. He’s whole body deflates, shoulder slumping, the energy needed to hold them up depleted. Luke shakes his head and his shaggy hair flops across his brow.

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn't seem like nothing.” Julie insists as gently as she can muster, afraid of scaring him off like a stray puppy.

“Okay… not nothing. But it’s stupid.”

“Well you should tell me then, so I can assure you it’s not stupid.” Julie watches his inner struggle play out on his face. He’s deciding whether or not he’s ready to tell her what he’s hiding. She catches the moment he decides to be honest and relief washes over her. They’ve been so vulnerable with each other already, telling each other things that they’ve never spoken aloud to anyone else. She knows that he knows that Julie won’t judge him for what he’s about to say. That Julie will hold him in whatever ways he needs.

“I just…” he stalls out, gathering himself before he can go further, “I wanted to get you something for your birthday.” Julie is grateful that she manages to quell her first instinct, which is to laugh. She’s taken a back at the outsized earnestness with which he’s confessed something so benign.

“Luke, you don’t—”

“I tried to write you a song,” He interrupts and Julie feels the edges of her smile widden against her will and looks down to try to hide how giddy that news makes her. “but I psyched myself out so bad it came out all wrong. It’s so much harder to go back to writing solo…. without you.” Julie’s heart flutters at the sweetness of it all. Sweet, kind, caring Luke. She’s so far gone on him it borders on painful. He’s not done, though. His voice is a step above a whisper now and Julie leans in to hear what comes next. “And, I guess I’ve also been having a hard time. With your birthday.” Julie tilts her head, not expecting that.

“My birthday?”

“Yeah, What you said about your mom just now…. I feel that too.” Julie’s brow furrows in confusion, not tracking what he’s saying.

“What do you mean?” Luke shrugs, his hands never leaving his pockets. He glances up at Julie before turning his eyes quickly down to the floor between their feet, struggling to get the words out.

“I just… you’re getting older, Julie. Next year you’ll be 17 and we’ll be the same age but then the year after that you’ll be older. And I’ll be 17 still. And then there'll be a year after that and another year after that.” A pit at the bottom of Julie’s stomach opens, the tingling sensations no longer light and airy but twisting uncomfortably. This whole time, Luke’s been watching her celebrate growing older, known he never will. Julie’s intimately familiar with the pain of a breaking heart and she feels that wrench in her chest just now. “Or maybe there won’t be another year. Maybe we’ll cross over. Maybe one day we just won’t be here anymore. Either way, I lose you.” Julie hears her sharp intake of breath and feels her mouth go slack, taking what Luke’s just given her. She hears the waver in his voice, the same that was there the night they almost said goodbye. Scared and unsure and desperate for her to hear what he’s saying. She’s rooted to the spot, just a few feet away. Luke, despite her hesitation, finds the courage to continue on. “The world keeps spinning and we’re stuck in time. And I just… I don’t know what that means. What that means for me and the boys. What that means for… us…”

 _Us_. It’s been “us” for some time now. _Julie and the Phantoms_ has long become something permanent in her life. Despite the creeping spectre of them disappearing forever constantly at the back of her mind, their impact on her life is so tangible that they can’t be anything but real to her. Luke and her have been on the edge of something for so long, tip-toeing around what they truly want because of this fear. The fear of what comes next.

But she’s done with that. She’s made her decision. She feels it deep and intrinsic and all consuming. And there’s no going back: it’s time to jump. Julie charges forward, eliminating any gap between them now, her steps surefooted. They’re nearly as close as they were on the dance floor earlier. His eyes are now glued to his shoes so Julie, feeling bold and in control of her destiny, reaches her free hand under his chin to bring his eyes up to her. His surprise at being touched like this is palpable and when his eyes meet hers, he looks utterly caught. The power of that reverence stirs something within her. She gives him a reassuring smile and moves so she’s directly under his gaze.

“Luke, the future… the future’s not guaranteed. I don’t know what comes next. But what we do with the time we have now, that’s what’s important.” Julie feels her body shake with the adrenaline of being vulnerable. Honest and scared but also anticipating the way her life is about to change. “You’ve done so much for me. You push me, you make me better. Not just as a writer, but as a person. And I don’t…. I don’t want to keep pretending. I already thought I lost you once. I don’t want to look back and see that I’ve wasted my time, when I could be spending it with you. ”

His eyes go round to the size of tea saucers. “But… but—”

“But what, Luke?” She cuts him off, perhaps harsher than she intended. She softens the next few words with a whisper just above the ambient silence of the studio “The time I spent with my mom, I’d never trade it in for anything. Even if it broke my heart, to say goodbye to her, that doesn’t change how happy she made me. How happy we made each other. And I want to feel that way... with you. Even if it ends in heartbreak That shouldn’t stop us from doing what makes us happiest now. That’s what I want. What about you?” Julie feels an inkling of doubt trickle into her heart, the fear that Luke won’t want her or won’t want the risk of her.

But he straightens, determination crossing his features, and his body moves with conviction for the first time since he dragged her onto the dancefloor. Luke tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear and rests his hand on her cheek, the same way he did those weeks ago after the Orpheum. Julie leans into it, her own hand moving to rest on his wrist. She can feel the tips of his fingers trace down her neck and behind her ear and she shivers. Luke’s voice quivers with pent up emotion when he finally speaks.

“Making music with you, being your friend, that’s already makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. And I thought that’d be enough. But it’s not.”

He brings his face in so close to her that his lips are a hair’s breadth away. She can feel whatever passes for his breath on her lips. The deep intensity of his gaze unnerves her in the best way, the excitement of being someone’s complete and total singular focus. Her breath quickens, her heart presses against the inside of her rib cage with every dramatic thump. A prickling expands out from her chest and down her limbs, her fingertips tingling, her whole body alight and sensitive.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she breathes. She surprises herself with the question, not realizing she had the capability to speak with the mayhem happening inside her. Luke looks shy again, not so much unsure as nervous, and Julie melts a little at the realization.

“Would that be… would that be alright?”

She nods, feeling the tendrils of her hair tickle against her cheeks. Her grip on his wrist tightens, eager to pull him in. Even with her nod, he moves molasses slow. The wait is probably just seconds but, like before, Julie feels time slow down, her brain trying to capture every single detail to keep with her forever. The glow of the lights of the highlights in his hair. The calluses of his fingers on the soft skin of her neck. The overwhelming power and giddiness of it all like when she hits a particularly high note or when they harmonize onstage or when Luke makes a pointed compliment about a lyric, only 100 times more intense.

When their lips finally touch, all of her focus pinpoints to where his soft lips press into hers. Her eyes slam closed as she feels his hand tense on her neck with the underlying desperation to pull her closer. His lips stay soft and gentle, firm but not overbearing. There’s a release that happens inside her that manifests in a quiet, barely audible sigh.

Luke grips tighter, their bodies now pressed into each other and she can feel the heat of him soak into the thin material of her dress. He moves his hands from her neck to graze down the sides of her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. They briefly rest on the curve of her waist before coming round and gripping into the small of her back, pressing her even closer.

Distantly, she hears the clatter of her shoes hitting the studio floor as she reaches both hands up to slide her fingers into his hair. Her back curves in order to make the angle work, letting herself be bowled over by him ever so slightly. The strands are silky and soft and mimic the softness of where their lips meet and Julie doesn't know how to crawl even further into this moment but she desperately wants to.

When they part, they don’t move far from each other. Julie opens her eyes slowly, like a cat waking from a nap trying to not be overwhelmed by the brightness of the sun. Luke's face comes into focus, as shell shocked as she imagines her own to be. They’re both breathing hard. Their breath intermingling and their chests bumping against each other with each exhale. It seems the kiss has rendered them speechless because they stand in silence with each other for several beats, taking each other in in the soft glow of the studio. She can see beginnings carved into the features of his face and her lips curve at the possibilities.

The tiredness comes to her all at once, the rush of adrenaline that propelled her through the night expelled with their kiss. She stifles a yawn. Luke chuckles at her, loosening his grip on her back but not letting go, resting his hands on her hips.

“Sorry.” she says, sheepishly.

“That bad, huh?” Luke, teases back, no seriousness behind the question. She comes up and gently smacks him on the chest and he takes half a step back as his laughter gets louder.

“It’s been a big day.” she says, a smile bright on her face. He grins just as bright and brings his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear again.

“It has been. You should get some sleep.” Another yawn answers for her and she nods her head too.

“Tomorrow?” She asks, knowing that he understands the full extent of what that one word conveys. He looks at her with eyes full of affection, and maybe a little promise for what’s to come.

“Yeah, boss. Tomorrow.” Her nose scrunches with her own affection as she briefly gets on her toes to plant a quick peck on his lips before ducking down and grabbing her shoes. She turns and walks to the doors of the studio, waiting until after she’s pushing them back together to look back at him. He’s where she left him, still watching her, still smiling.

“Goodnight, Luke.” She says as she shuts the door. Before it snaps shut she catches his response to her.

“Goodnight, Julie.”


End file.
